


Death in Venice

by Antares



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Italian Clichés, Mission to Italy, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-13
Updated: 2003-08-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:19:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3931444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antares/pseuds/Antares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Goa'uld weapons in Venice? SG-1 flies to Italy to investigate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death in Venice

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Tod in Venedig](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3931474) by [Antares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antares/pseuds/Antares). 



> Thanks to my betas Minnesota and Sue Barrett.

„General, is it true, that our mission to P-whatsoever has been postponed?”, was the first thing Colonel O´Neill asked when he entered the briefing room, his colleagues already waiting for him. He balanced a pot of steaming coffee, shifting it continuously from his right to his left hand. He sat down and added, “It was Carter who mentioned something like that.”

“Major Carter is right, Colonel. The planet can wait. There is a much more important incident to be dealt with first. Your presence on Earth is a matter of priority.” General Hammond answered steadily. He overlooked generously the fact that Jack was actually paying more attention to his drink than to his superior officer. 

“So what’s the matter?”, O´Neill finally asked.

“Roselita Sanchez from SG-3 who is currently spending her holidays in Europe, called her team leader yesterday in the afternoon. She reported that she had found what looked like copies of a Goa´uld hand device and a zat-weapon in a market in Venice.”

“Imitations?” Dr. Daniel Jackson asked and shifted around excitedly on his chair.

“Yes. She was quite sure and bought an example of each. She told her CO she would investigate further and call him back later. But she didn’t. All attempts to reach her have failed so far. And the staff at her hotel have confirmed that she hasn’t been in her room since yesterday.”

“That’s incredible!” Daniel exclaimed. “Jack, that …”

“Easy, Daniel” Jack interrupted. “General, you wanna say that after all it wasn’t a copy?” He gave the general a scrutinizing look. 

“We don’t know, Colonel. And therefore we have to act immediately.”

“Sir”, Major Carter intervened, “please keep in mind, that as long as these weapons are fakes there is no serious problem. Chances are great that during the last centuries some coincidences brought them to the Venetian market. What worries me more is the fact that they might belong to a Goa´uld actually residing on earth.”

“There’s a snake on the loose in Europe and they aren’t aware of it”, Jack stated while sipping on his coffee and pulling a face when it was still so hot it burned his tongue. 

Sam grinned: “Sir, if I’m right, we’ll be the snake charmers.”

Jack raised his eyebrows; General Hammond nodded. “Major Carter is right. I have already arranged everything for you, Dr. Jackson and Major Carter to fly to Venice this afternoon, to investigate in situ.”

“The real Venice?” O´Neill wanted to know.

“Is there another Venice, other than the real Venice?” Hammond wondered

“Well, I thought that perhaps Venice Beach in California … ?”

When Hammond regarded him with his Colonel-don’t-mess-with-me look, but didn’t bother to say anything, O’Neill raised his hands and admitted defeat. “Okay, okay. Italy is fine with me.” He crossed his hands over his chest and indicated to Teal´c with a movement of his chin: “So, Daniel, Carter and I are going to Venice. Why is he allowed to stay behind?”

The Jaffa explained in a measured tone, “The General and I will attend a meeting with the Tok´ra and Jacob Carter the day after tomorrow. As you may recall O´Neill, this meeting has already been postponed twice.”

“Besides, a giant man who even in June is wearing a woolly hat all the time might raise suspicion”, Hammond added. 

Inevitably everybody looked at Teal´c´s forehead. The General might be right. 

“Now, that this question is settled to everyone’s satisfaction, I’ll give you further information concerning this mission”, the General went on. “Dr. Jackson will introduce himself as member of the archaeological department of the Brooklyn Museum of Art, searching for two Egyptian artefacts. Doctor Samantha Carter is a scientist, working for the same museum and responsible for the dating of antiquities. Colonel O´Neill, you are a Government official who will be accompanying them because this case touches national interests. In Venice you’ll meet with Capitano Virginio Longhi, a Carabiniere who is working for the “Ministero dei beni culturali”, the Ministry of Culture. Longhi is a very competent man the American Government worked already with in the past. Please, have a look at these dossiers.”

He passed some photocopies in a loose-leaf binder. When SG-1 started flicking through pages he added: “In there you´ll find everything you´ll need to know about Venice: city-maps, tickets, hotel reservations – well, the usual things. Of course, Longhi knows nothing about the Stargate-project, so you have to improvise when dealing with him.”

“And that’s also the reason why no official authority has been involved in this case. “ Daniel gave a nod of assent. 

“Hey, we are official!” Jack exclaimed. “Almost – at least. But okay, I see your point. So when do we start?” He sighed like a man who had been condemned to spend the next days on a punishment expedition to the North Pole instead of going to one of the most famous cities in Italy. 

\-----------------------------------------------------

Twenty hours and two stopovers later they finally landed at Venice, Marco Polo. During the flight Daniel had been reading every available travel-guide. Once or twice he had tried to read a passage aloud to his teammates but had stopped when O´Neill had complained repeatedly that he didn’t like old, musty towns that were falling inevitably into ruins. 

After another two hours they moved into three beautiful rooms in an old palazzo that had been converted into a little hotel. For a moment the hotel had been like an answer to all of O´Neill´s fears: the first floor was, like in many palazzos in Venice, unoccupied and smelling damp because of the frequent aqua alta - the floods. Because of this the reception was on the second floor as were the dining rooms. All the guest-rooms were situated on the upper floors and offered an amazing view over the town and the Laguna. The rooms were decorated with antiques and Daniel was fascinated: a secretair from the 17th Century, miniatures from the 18th Century and a marble floor that was at least five hundred years old. 

Sam admired the huge four-poster bed crowned with a damask baldachin and the fresh flowers in every vase. When Sam asked the Colonel if he thought the hotel was really “romantic” he only shrugged his shoulders. But ten seconds later he complained that the only sports-channel he had found so far on the satellite-TV was Eurosport. “And who is interested in European soccer when the NHL play-offs are televised on ABC?”

Sam began to understand why the Colonel was even more grouchy than usual.

\-------------------------------------

The next morning they met in the dining room. The windows were open and offered a splendid view over the Laguna glittering in the morning sunlight. Soft yellow gauze curtains were flowing graciously in the light breeze coming from the water. The fresh roses on every table were exuding a heady perfume.

“Did you sleep well?” Carter asked after taking her place. 

“Not really”, Daniel replied. “I’m always in too big a turmoil to sleep well after a long flight.”

“The flight is never my problem. But those damned bells which told me every fifteen minutes how fast the morning was approaching…” , the Colonel muttered and rubbed his eyes trying to chase away the last remains of sleep and tiredness.

“Santa Caterina”, Daniel nodded and got a murderous glare from O´Neill who didn’t want to have a name for the horror that had kept him awake all night long.

They were served a typical Italian breakfast. Jack complained that neither the little croissants nor the minute buttered toasts were enough for a grown up man. 

“And these doll-cups for the Espresso – it’s a joke, isn’t it?”

Daniel, who had been so excited when he had first learned about their mission to Venice was beginning to get the feeling that he would need all his enthusiasm and optimism to deal with Jack’s bad mood. 

He thought to cheer up the Colonel and so he said: “Jack, in a few minutes we’re going to take a Vaporetto. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“I only hope it’s bigger than this toast”, O´Neill murmured. 

Daniel raised his eyebrows, opened his mouth and answered a few seconds later totally perplexed: “You can’t eat it! Vaporetto is the Italian name for the little ferry-boats on the canals.”

One moment O´Neill stared back as astonished as Daniel has been. Well, this promised to be fun, if Mr. Super-Intelligent would demonstrate to him every two minutes his cultural deficits! And so he answered more acidly than intended: 

“If a Vaporetto is a ferry-boat, please called it a ferry-boat. I’m not in the least interested in what the Italians call it. And I know very well that you are able to speak Italian, so there´s no need to show me anymore. Capito?” 

Carter gave her CO a reproaching look and admonished, “But, sir…”

Daniel pushed his chair back and stood up. He folded his napkin in two and put it back carefully on his plate. Struggling for his composure he said: “I’ll see you in fifteen minutes at the reception desk. Until later, then.” He left the dining-room without looking back.

Once in his room he leant against the door. Why couldn’t they have sent Major Paul Davis? The Major had proved to be a man you could work with. But no! They had paired him with the Colonel! Suddenly he smiled. Hammond had probably seen a golden opportunity to get rid of the Colonel when the Tok´ra came, Daniel thought with a lopsided grin and went to the bathroom.

\---------------------------------------

Half an hour later they were on board a Vaporetto and on their way to the Carabinieri-Station.

Even O´Neill couldn’t deny that Venice had a certain charm when they passed the old palaces on both sides of the Canal Grande. Daniel told Sam everything he had read about all the famous sites. And Colonel O´Neill listened against his will. The dark sombre intrigues about paid assassins fascinated him. His mood improved steadily until the moment when a busload of Japanese tourists boarded the ferry, talking incessantly and filming everything. And even when Daniel indicated the famous Bridge of Sighs, and mentioned Casanova, his mood didn’t lighten. Fortunately they reached their destination one station later.  
Only a few steps and they arrived at Campo San Zaccaria, the headquarters of the Venetian Carabinieri. Daniel joked in Italian with the Brigadiere on duty and Colonel O´Neill´s mood dropped to a freezing point because he remembered belatedly that he still hadn’t apologized to Daniel for his harsh words at breakfast. 

They were shown into Capitano Longhi´s office, which reminded them all of Daniel´s room at the base: a small room stuffed with books and antiques occupying every single space.Longhi got up from behind his desk and greeted them. He was in his mid-thirties, rather tall and had – of course – black hair. He was wearing the typical uniform of the Carabinieri: black trousers with a red stripe on the sides and, due to the already high temperatures, a blue shirt with short sleeves and quite a number of decorations. But his greatest advantage – at least in O´Neill´s opinion – was, that he spoke English fluently. 

“Welcome, Colonnello. I´m Capitano Longhi.”

“Hi, Captain.” They shook hands. 

“Dotoressa, I´m pleased to meet you.”

“So am I, Capitano.”

“Dottore Jackson.”

“Capitano, we’re really grateful that you were able to receive us on so short a notice”, Daniel replied friendly. 

“Please, have a seat.”

There were three chairs, although the piles of books indicated that they had been emptied only recently and only for this occasion.

“How may I be of assistance?” Longhi inquired. 

“I assume you know one or two thing about antiques?” O´Neill said looking curiously around the room. 

“I’m working for the Ministry of Culture.”

“Lot of work?” the Colonel asked. 

Capitano Longhi laughed. “Well, in Italy you find one third of world’s art treasures.”

“I think that’s a “yes” then”, O´Neill replied evenly.

“We can’t keep up”, Longhi answered truthfully. “You can’t turn a rock in Italy without dealing with history. Last year we were able to recover nearly thirty thousand archaeological findings and art treasures, but don’t ask me how many left our country at the same time or were reported stolen.” 

“Well, art theft takes us straight to the reason for our visit.” Daniel took two photos from his folder. “Would you be able to find out if there are descriptions or photos of these two objects in your computer?” He showed Longhi the pictures of a Goa´uld ribbon weapon and a zat-gun. 

“Egyptian”, Longhi mumbled. “Well, I’m not really an expert in Egyptian art but I’ll check the computer.“ While he was scanning the pictures and adding details he said, “Tell me more about these two objects. They have been stolen where and when? And why are you looking for them in Venice?”

O´Neill began with their story. “The pieces disappeared a month ago. An employee from Dr. Jackson’s museum called us the day before yesterday and told us that she had found these objects here in Venice in a market. She bought them, but we´ve lost contact with her, and our Government hopes that you can help us.”

“But you don’t tell me why the American Government thinks it’s necessary to send an Air Force Colonel to Italy?”, the Capitano asked, already knowing the answer.

“National interests”, Daniel said apologetically and Longhi smiled, fully understanding.

“I see. – Okay. You got a picture of your missing employee? There is a Carabinieri-Station in nearly every village in Italy and I’ll send a fax to them. Hopefully we’ll soon have news.”

Carter gave him a passport photo of Sanchez saying, “Prego”. Longhi answered with a dazzling smile, “ Mille grazie, Signorina.“

O´Neill thought, “toothpaste-smile” and reconsidered once more his sympathy for Longhi. 

The Carabiniere printed a list, gave it to O´Neill and said, “This is a list with all the *official* antique stands and shops in Venice. If Signorina Sanchez found the objects at one of these, it shouldn’t be too difficult for us to find the seller. If however she found them at one of the many unofficial stands that change location every day … but let’s start with the official places. I’ll come to your hotel tonight at seven o’clock and during dinner we can compare notes. Is that okay with you?”

Carter and Daniel nodded and O´Neill answered, “Well, that’s settled then. Let’s start, folks.” 

\-----------------------------------------

The first market sold a lot of kitsch. Carter found a plastic gondola with little lamps blinking in different colours and showed it to the Colonel. 

“Sir, don’t you think it fits perfectly on your mantelpiece? “, she inquired laughingly. 

“Christ almighty!” the Colonel shouted, only to be shown another monstrosity by Daniel; a snow-globe as big as a football. 

“Would you like it to snow on *Venezia la Serenissima*, Jack?” Daniel asked, shaking his head and regarding incredulously the ugliness in his hands.

Jack was very pleased to notice once more that the archaeologist wasn’t in the least begrudging. Obviously Daniel had forgiven him his bad mood of earlier. He was relieved and answered with a broad grin, “If you have to, buy it for Hammond. The eagle in his office can hatch it.”

Within a few minutes they noticed that all items were worthless junk, made for tourists. They went to the second market. It had mostly the same souvenirs on sale, plus models of the Coliseum in Rome and the Leaning Tower of Pisa. At the third market they also found jewellery. They looked for ribbon-devices and when they found none, Daniel loosely described what they were looking for to the merchant. He patted Sam’s arm and added: “A friend of ours bought one here in Venice an …an Egyptian bracelet and ….my … wife now would also like to have one.” The friendly merchant couldn’t help, but he gave them the address of a vendor not mentioned on Longhi´s list. 

“Sam, I made you my wife”, Daniel explained laughingly when they walked on. 

“Well, that’s what I thought I understood. But I couldn’t embarrass my … husband by asking him if I’m really his wife”, Sam laughed. 

“Venice got to your heads?” O´Neill asked grudgingly. His two young team members confirmed his suspicions by answering his question only with another fat grin. O´Neill rolled his eyes. 

And it got worse. Sam and Daniel had acquired a taste for playing a newly married couple that were spending their honeymoon in Venice. The loving husband tried everything to fulfil his wife´s desire for an Egyptian bracelet. He made the merchants search everywhere. And they had shown them one or two pieces that certainly belonged in a museum. Sam cast Daniel an inquiring look and their suspicions were confirmed when they asked about the price: astronomical! 

When they hesitated, the young shop assistant addressed Daniel. “Look, this is a really unique bracelet for your wife.” And he added for Sam in bad English, “All your friends will envy you.” Then he winked at the Colonel and added loudly so that O´Neill couldn´t help but hear it. “Perhaps the father of the bride will contribute to this present? He won’t regret it.”

O´Neill quickly stormed out of the shop. It took Sam and Daniel one moment to decide whether to laugh or whether to follow the Colonel. Then they ran after him. 

They found O´Neill leaning by one of the many fountains, trailing his hand absent-mindedly trough the water. He saw Sam and Daniel leaving the shop and searching for him. When they spotted him and came towards him, he suddenly thought that they were an attractive couple. He was so used to seeing them in the blue overalls or the green BDUs and the thick black Kevlar-waistcoats he sometimes forgot, that Major Carter was also Samantha Carter and looked really nice in the red dress she was wearing. And she looked young, same as Daniel. Compared to them he felt rather old and grey. 

“That was mean, Jack”, Daniel also dipped one hand into the water. He would have liked to say more to console O´Neill, but couldn´t find any words that didn’t sound like meaningless platitudes.

But O´Neill had already found a solution for himself and only shrugged his shoulders. “Jeez, I think in his opinion everybody older than thirty is *old*.”

“Then we all belong into that category”, Carter confirmed, nodding vehemently. “Shall we old folks have a little breather and indulge in the famous Italian ice-cream, or shall we continue our search?”

“You continue the search and I´ll have the ice-cream”, the Colonel grinned, passing Carter the city-map. “See what you can find out in these two antique shops and pick me up in two hours. Agreed? – On second thought, make that an order!”

Sam grinned mockingly. “Yes, sir!”  
\------------------------------------

When they met up with him two hours later Jack was sitting in a little café. There were two empty bottles of coke and an empty sundae dish before him on the table. He was eating a slice of cake and reading the sports news in “USA-Today”- the newspaper living up to it’s title. Therefore he was in a wonderful mood. 

“Hey, Carter, the ice-cream is excellent! Why don’t you guys sit down and tell me what you found out? And you should absolutely try a “Coppa Venezia”. A giant monster!”

“Well, Jack, I guess we´ve only earned a cone of vanilla ice-cream”, Daniel sighed taking a seat.

“Anything?”

“Nothing at all, sir. We even visited two more jewellery shops on our way back”, Carter replied and took off her sandals under the table. 

“Then let’s hope Longhi discovered more”, O´Neill said optimistically. 

\-----------------------------------

Longhi´s appointment was at seven and he arrived at a quarter to eight. A motorboat-taxi took them - after a short trip through a labyrinth of narrow canals - to a little restaurant. As there was no real menu Longhi persuaded them to try the fish. But only after he had talked shop with O´Neill about different fish and the best methods to catch them, the Colonel began to forget that he had been nearly an hour too late. The food was served with chilled and fruity white wine and every bit as delicious as promised by the Capitano. 

“You were successful?”, Longhi wanted to know after raising their glasses to one another.

“No, but one of the merchants was selling genuine pieces”, Daniel answered.

“With or without export licence?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Officially it’s forbidden to export art treasures, even those that are privately owned. You need a special export licence. As you can imagine it’s not easy to get one and – how shall I put it? – It involves a lot of red tape. Therefore the paperwork is often falsified. Or they “forget” it. Or they have a false export licence for a false antiquity. All variations are possible.”

“Sounds complicated”, O´Neill remarked. “But it’s the same with our “authentic” Indian pottery. It is sometimes fraud even if it has got a certificate. Impossible that those few Indians could have done all the pottery during the last centuries which is sold nowadays – weren’t never enough of them.”

Longhi nodded knowingly. “By the way, we’ve checked with the hospitals but no one corresponding to the description of Sanchez was admitted. And no Carabinieri- Station reported an unknown, female corpse.”

“That’s good news.” Sam answered. But at the same time she had to remind herself that a Goa´uld could easily have taken Sanchez to places where no Carabinieri would ever get. 

“Are there other unidentified corpses?”, O´Neill asked. 

“A drunk old man who fell into a canal. Let’s hope he has got relatives, otherwise it may be days before we know even his name.”

Well, that didn’t sound like a typical Goa´uld crime. O´Neill was relieved.

“Tomorrow I can help you with your search. We can split into two-person-teams which will be faster”, Longhi proposed. 

While speaking he gave Carter a bright smile and O´Neill already knew whom to assign to which team. But of course Daniel in his innocence answered, “That’s really nice, Capitano!”

“Why is your English so perfect?”, the Colonel inquired and it sounded nearly like a reproach. 

“I studied in Chicago for two years. My uncle is living there.” And as O´Neill involuntarily raised an eyebrow he added sarcastically, “And no, don’t ask, he is not the mafia-boss.”

“Hey, I never would have suggested anything like that”, the Colonel replied hastily and lifted his hands in a defensive gesture. 

“Okay then. But please, tell me: are you really trying to retrieve these Egyptian objects? Or are you simply looking for Signorina Sanchez? I mean, we could save a lot of time if you admit that the museum has only been a pretext.” He let his gaze travel from Carter to Daniel and stopped with O´Neill. 

“Do you have doubts that Dr. Jackson is an historian? Or that Dr. Carter isn’t familiar with the evaluation of antiques?” Carefully O´Neill chose the two examples that were as close to the truth as possible.

“No. But I called the Brooklyn Museum. And guess what: neither a Dr. Jackson nor a Dr. Carter nor a Mrs. Sanchez work for the museum. But thanks to the Internet I found a Colonel O´Neill working for the Air Force…”

“How?”

“Uh…I …I better will not explain further. But fact is, I also found a Major Samantha Carter. Thanks to Dr. Jackson’s audacious theory about the pyramids I found his name on several homepages dealing with aliens. Then I lost track of him. But then the Net revealed to me – what a coincidence! - That he is also living in the same town as you. Fascinating, isn’t it?” 

“Well, the wonders of modern technology.” O´Neill answered easily trying to make time while he was thinking frantically. Shit! If this was their cover story someone could have taken the time to inform the museum about their status!

As if he was able to read minds Longhi said, “I assume nobody thought that an Italian Carabiniere would double-check the exchange of information between the American and the Italian Governments. Your people probably thought that we have never heard of Bill Gates and that my government probably couldn’t imagine one of their employees was capable of investigating without having been told to do so. And I must confess it took nearly all of my free time. I …”

“You said *alien homepages*?” Daniel interrupted the Capitano. And he pronounced the word “alien” so disgustedly as if thick, green slime would drop just from the word.

Longhi was astonished by Daniel’s vehemence but then he answered with relish. “Yes. Aliens. Phenomena you can’t explain, ships from outer space, off world conspiracies. All sorts of supernatural rubbish! Yes, Dr. Jackson your name is mentioned on those sites.”

“Oh.” Daniel couldn’t say more in this moment and looked very downcast. He put his fork down because his appetite suddenly had vanished. There was a difference between abstractly knowing that no one took you seriously and hearing someone say it to your face. 

No Stargate-fan here, O´Neill thought. He feared Longhi would never believe in gate-travel. But he seemed to believe in his government and after a quick side-glance to Carter the Colonel said, “I think, we should tell him the truth.”

“Sir???”

He ignored her outburst and continued, “We all work for the Government; Sanchez, too. You are absolutely right, but I can’t give you any further details. But I can tell you that we have to find Sanchez and we need the two artefacts back. The rest of our story is correct. Sanchez´ telephone call brought us to Venice.”

“I don’t know why you couldn’t tell me the truth in the first place but…”

´Because you would never believe me! ´

“ … To work on a case where I know only half of the facts isn’t that new to me”, he continued. “I’ll help you tomorrow after I finished my paperwork.”

“Deal.”

For the rest of the evening they continued to discuss similarities and differences in Europe and America and about sports and holidays and closed the evening with a tiramisu and a grappa. Longhi and Daniel even drank one more espresso. Then the Capitano brought them back to their hotel.

\----------------------------

They all went to the Colonel’s room to talk about the latest development. Sam and Daniel flopped down onto the sofa. O´Neill took a beer from the mini bar and sat down in front of them.

“Who would have thought that the Capitano would prefer an incomplete truth to a plausible lie”, Sam mused loudly. 

“Well, couldn’t have been that plausible if a little surfing on the Net revealed our true identity,” Daniel said flippantly. 

O´Neill grumbled: “After we are back we have to talk to the responsible and tell him to show more … competence the next time!”

“Sir, there was only one day to come up with a cover story. And it seems Longhi is a very capable hacker.”

“Carter, that isn’t an excuse, but now, let’s talk about Sanchez. It would have been better if she had been admitted to a hospital but its good news that there aren’t any unidentified corpses in Venice.” 

“That may be as it is”, Carter remarked, “but that doesn’t mean that there hasn’t been any Goa´uld involvment.”

“No.” O´Neill yawned. “But our investigations wouldn’t get any simpler if a trace of corpses plastered the way.”

“In that case we would know where to look”, Daniel mused and yawned, too. “There would be a path to follow – the path of Death.”

“Yeah, you´re right! We would proceed from corpse to corpse and Glowing-Eye would never know what had hit him until we are finally standing right before him ready to blow him away.”

Daniel’s eyes were already closed when he answered, “Killed by his own weapon and up on his way to snakes´ heaven. Death in Venice in the Goa´uld version.”

Carted looked annoyed from one man to the other. “I think it’s really time for you to go to bed now. Hopefully the next meeting will have better results.”

“I cited Thomas Mann!” Daniel defended himself but he allowed Sam to pull him to his feet.

“Never heard of this Mann”, Sam answered curtly and not in the least impressed and tried to usher him out of the room.

“Night, Jack. Have revengeful dreams about our favourite snakes.”

“Night, Daniel, same to you. Night, Carter, sweet dreams.”

“I’ll try not to dream about the Goa´uld, sir.”

“Try Captain Longhi then”, he proposed, grinning.

Sam turned around once more and answered pointedly, “I’m sure that dream would be nice.” The door slammed and she was gone before O´Neill could think of an appropriate answer. 

\----------------------------------------

The following morning at six o’clock the bells of Santa Caterina greeted the new day and woke O´Neill. The sun was shining in his face because he hadn’t closed his curtains properly. Mumbling he staggered to the window. The curtain already in his hand he saw that the city hadn’t disappeared yet under the daily smog. His gaze travelled over the roofs. On the horizon he saw the Alps, the highest summits still covered with snow. This view made him think of Colorado Springs, although the Rocky Mountains were nearly always visible due to their close proximity to the town. But with a panorama like this – mhm, Venice wasn’t so bad after all. 

He went back to bed, thought about the lawn which needed mowing, the neighbours who had promised to water the flowers, the… He was soon fast asleep and Sam and Daniel had to wake him when they came to meet him for breakfast. 

The next morning began as the afternoon had ended: with endless searching. Even Daniel no longer showed any enthusiasm for antiques not to mention fake antiques. They were all suffering from jet-lag and were therefore quite pleased that Longhi showed up at half past eleven. This time he wasn’t wearing his uniform but beige trousers, a dark red Polo shirt and leather-sandals without socks. 

“He´s disguised himself as an Italian”, O´Neill whispered into Carter’s ear, when he first saw him. 

Then they noticed that Longhi had completed his outfit with sunglasses in his hair, a telefonino on his belt and a camcorder in one hand. With the other hand he was waving a city-map.

“Hello, James Bond, I’m sure none of your friends will see through your cover”, O´Neill teased him.

“If we avoid the neighbourhood of San Zaccaria there is little danger that someone will recognize me”, the Capitano replied. 

Then he turned to Carter. “Signorina Carter, you look charming today. This dress suits you really well!” 

“I thought Venice wasn’t that big and everybody knows everybody”, O´Neill tried to bring back Longhi´s attention to him.

“I’ve been living in Venice for two years now but there is so much paperwork to do that I seldom leave my office.”

“Okay then. I propose Daniel and Carter continue their “we-are-a-just-married-couple ploy” from yesterday and you accompany me.”

“If you don’t mind, Colonnello, I’d like to show Dr. Jackson the art collection of a friend, Avvocato Mortara. He’s very eager to present his pieces to an expert. Perhaps he can also help us.”

O´Neill agreed, because Daniel plus Longhi didn’t mean Carter plus Longhi and that was fine with him. They agreed to meet again in two hours.

\-------------------------------------------

Fifteen minutes later Daniel felt like he was taking an exam. Longhi and the avvocato questioned him about the pieces in Mortara´s collection ranging from Ancient Egyptian to the art of the 18th Century. Daniel had to give dates, explain connections and identify epochs. The meagre result was one new address. 

While walking to the address Longhi commented, “You are really good, Daniel.”

“Why shouldn’t I? By the way, what were you and Mortara trying to find out? You already knew all the answers to the questions, Capitano!” Daniel angrily quickened his step.

“You may call me Virginio. No need to be so formal anymore. I’m convinced now that you are a very capable historian. But I had to know how important this matter is for the government.”

“I’m really grateful for your praise, Virginio”, Daniel replied sarcastically and raised his brow questioningly. 

“I’m sorry, Daniel, but I knew of no other way of finding out how much you really know. I thought you had ruined your reputation with this … nonsense about the pyramids and, well, that working for the US Government was your last chance.” 

“I assume there are others who think like you?” Daniel answered lightly. “But in my opinion the government got the best man for the job.” It was a statement of fact, not a boast. “It’s not … an act of mercy on their behalf.” With the little flaw that everybody outside the stargate-program thinks that I’m a complete looser, Daniel thought but challenged Longhi with a grin. 

Longhi understood him better than he knew. He stopped in front of a shop-window and regareded the display without seeing it. He said, “I didn’t stay at the university because during my studies I became more and more convinced that it is absolutely necessary to protect our treasures. To find illegal digs, so that our history will be saved for everybody and not only for thieves and rich collectors. Nobody really understands my motivation to work for the Carabinieri.” 

“I do.”

“Thank you.” As they continued walking Longhi asked: “Do you like what you are doing?” 

“Oh, yes! It’s beyond my dreams! It’s… it’s fantastic!” Daniel replied truthfully.

“Then why haven’t you published anything during the past few years?”

Daniel answered vaguely, “It’s all part of a very complex program and top secret.”

“So classified that you have to put your personal reputation on the line?”

“Ehm…yes.”

“And none of the hardliners will take that into consideration”, Longhi hit the nail on the head.

“I assume it’s the same for you.”

“Oh, in my free time I’m writing a book about “The Representation of the Temple in Renaissance Drawings of the early 15th Century”. I’m not sure I’ll ever finish it but I try to convince myself, that one day I’ll be a star among the historians.”

“But in general you love your work?”

“If I’m not chasing after Egyptian bracelets…” Longhi laughed.

“It’s really important.”

“Okay, then we’ll search with the appropriate enthusiasm.”

But even their enthusiasm didn’t bring a result. When they arrived at the meeting point Daniel knew a lot about the private life of Virginio and the Italian Renaissance and Longhi was well informed about Egyptian mythology – but they hadn’t found anything.

\--------------------------------------

O´Neill and Carter had bought some postcards for Dr. Fraiser and Cassandra but had also found nothing. They went to a nearby bar and Longhi invited them to have some tramezzini. 

“Daniel?” O´Neill asked. 

Many years of working with his CO had taught Daniel to respond immediately. “Triangular toast with eggs, tuna, ham, salad or tomatoes.”

“Let’s have some”, O´Neill decided for everyone and shaking his head he asked: “Why don’t they call it sandwich like normal people?” Whatever its name O´Neill liked it and he felt obliged to praise Italian cooking. 

When everybody was sated the Capitano announced: “In the next hour I’d like to show you Venice.” He smiled at Sam. 

O´Neill cleared his throat. “Why split up the team Carter – Daniel?”

Carter thought that O´Neill now was exaggerating his mother henning. Furthermore she didn’t need anyone to tell her what to do. And because O´Neill hadn’t made it an order but only a proposition she ignored the Colonel completely, smiled at Longhi and said, “With pleasure, Capitano.”

“Don’t call me Capitano or I have to call you Maggiore! No, call me Virginio”, the Capitano proposed.

“Okay, Virginio, let’s go!” Sam answered. This development was much too fast for her liking but in front of O´Neill she couldn’t back out. 

Longhi addressed the two men saying, “We’ll meet in about an hour. Then we´ll have covered all the shops in the centre. After that we can go to the Lido, to Murano and Burano and if we don’t find anything….”

“… We’ll reconsider”, O´Neill finished the sentence rather impolitely.

Longhi only smiled and disappeared with Sam in one of the narrow alleys.

\---------------------------------------

An hour later they were on a vaporetto loaded with lots of tourists in multicoloured shorts and sunhats. Their destination was Burano, a little fishing island east of Venice. After forty minutes and heavy seas - some of the tourists got really pale - they reached Burano. Pointedly O´Neill set off with Daniel. Daniel didn’t even try to coax the colonel out of his bad mood. The island wasn’t that big and after only an hour they were back in Venice, stopping at Murano: the island known for its glassworks. 

“Sam, come on, this way”, Daniel said the moment they docked. He grabbed Sam’s elbow and steered her around the next corner before O´Neill could make new arrangements. 

Once out of hearing range Sam asked, “Daniel, was that an attempted escape?”

“A successful escape”, Daniel confirmed not feeling in the least bit guilty.

“This boring search is getting on his nerves.” Sam sighed. 

“Not only on his nerves…”

\------------------------------------------

Longhi who strolled with O´Neill in the opposite direction asked him the same question. “You’re getting bored looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack, aren’t you?”

“You can bet your life on that!”

“Think of it as holiday.”

“Holiday? My idea of a holiday is my cabin in Minnesota, my lake…” O´Neill went into raptures. He made an all-encompassing gesture with his hands and added, “Venice is okay for Daniel. He feels at home in old palaces, museums, galleries and so on. But not me.”

“Colonnello, don’t you think it’s even harder for Daniel to be here?”

“Why?” O´Neill was surprised and stopped in his tracks. 

“Daniel has been in Venice for two days and so far hasn’t seen any museums or galleries. He only had the chance to glance at all the treasures he wants to examine and the only items he is allowed to spend any time on are plastic gondolas and Venetian masks made in China. Here in Murano you can add some kitschy vases to that list.” 

“Nonsense”, O´Neill replied dismissively. But three steps later he frowned. This point of view was new to him. But it couldn’t be or could it? If Longhi was right, then why had Daniel never complained? 

\---------------------------

They had just entered a glassworks and looked around in the crowded gift shop when O´Neill´s cell phone rang. A very excited Daniel shouted, “Jack, you have to come immediately! Sam found what we are looking for! She’s examined some other objects too, so they won’t become suspicious. But if I’m right ...”

Before Daniel could begin with the historical lecture O´Neill stopped him. “Daniel, we’re on our way. Just tell us where you are.” Daniel gave him the address and some minutes later O´Neill and Longhi arrived at the given address. 

“Jack! We’ve found at least ten bracelets and three weap… three of those things we don’t know what they are”, he corrected himself in the last moment. “And we found three other objects form our … eh… period.”

“Genuine?”

“I haven’t examined them yet.”

“Okay, Daniel. You go back to Carter and buy one or two objects each. Then come back here and we’ll decide what to do next. If there are originals and fakes, bring the originals.”

Still much too fascinated by their findings and the fact that they would know more in a few minutes Daniel ignored Jack’s sarcasm, shouted, “Done!” and disappeared in a rush. The Colonel and Longhi went to a café to wait. Twenty minutes later Carter and Daniel arrived carrying a large plastic bag. 

“They are fakes but well made”, were Daniel’s first words when Sam started unpacking their treasures. And now it became clear why they had found the objects on Murano: in the copy of the ribbon-weapon was inserted a yellow-golden shimmering glass instead of the deadly stone. The “bracelet” was held in place with simple rings around the fingers. O´Neill and Longhi regarded it curiously.

“How do you like the paperweight, sir?” Carter asked and watched attentively O´Neill´s reaction when she showed him a Goa´uld zat gun, set in a cube of blue glass. 

“Paperweight?” O´Neill asked unbelievingly.

“Yes. If you prefer green or brown glass, I can fetch you one…”, she offered mischievously.

The Colonel shook his head. “I don’t think so. Paperweight …! What else did you buy?” 

Sam placed two necklaces on the table next. They could have been Egyptian hadn’t there been the tiny inscriptions in Goa´uld. 

“And this is our pièce de résistance”, Daniel announced and put a glass bowl on the table. The bowl came with a lid that was decorated with seven dragons. Winged dragons. And if you looked closely enough these little dragons resembled suspiciously …

“Snakeheads?” O´Neill shouted with a questioning look from Carter to Daniel.

“Yes, sir. The friendly shop assistant believed it to be “Ming-dynasty”. A genuine Chinese bowl to serve….fish.”

“If he ever finds out how wrong his assumptions are”, Jack murmured. “And you said there were several of them?”

“Yes, there are. And as quickly as I could in the time allowed I examined them all. They are all fakes. The originals must be somewhere else”, Daniel replied. 

“Shit! We have to know who’s behind this. Captain is this stand officially registered?”

The Carabiniere called his office and five minutes later they had their answer. The “official” owner was the wife of a member of the town council. 

“Well, that was fast”, O´Neill remarked with a nod of acknowledgement.

“If it was that simple to find out, it’s probably a cover address for the tax authority”, Longhi said pragmatically.

“How do we find out who is really behind this? And even more important how fast can you find that out?”, Daniel wanted to know.

“Sir, at the end of the day they must have to take the unsold objects somewhere”, Carter interrupted. “If we simply follow them? Find out were they stock the merchandise? Perhaps we’ll even find what we are looking for?”

“Good idea!”

“And if they don’t store it on Murano we should have a boat”, Longhi took up Carter’s point.

“You can organize one?”, she asked. 

“The Carabinieri are everywhere.” Longhi grinned. “And of course there is Carabinieri-Station on Murano, too. I’ll see what I can arrange.”

“How about organizing some weapons for us?”, O´Neill asked. “We can’t confront the criminals with our cellular phones, right?”

“It will be difficult, but I’ll try.”

After Longhi had disappeared O´Neill asked, “What’s your assessment of the situation?”

“If the genuine pieces are in the hand of a Goa´uld, normal weapons won’t help us”, Carter answered. “What a pity we couldn’t bring zat guns with us on the plane.”

“Yeah, what a shame we couldn’t pack a fully equipped Jaffa”, Jack grinned. “That would have been…”

“In my opinion we won’t have to deal with a Goa´uld”, Daniel interrupted them. “I’m quite sure the weapons are antiques. Because the system lords know that at least some people on Earth know about their existence. They would try everything not to draw attention to them. To be quite honest, can you really see a Goa´uld selling copies of his weapons as a paperweight to earn big money?”

That sounded so unrealistic that Sam had to giggle. 

“We can forget about the originals of the bowl and the jewellery, no potential weapons there, and the hand device can only be operated by someone who has naquadah in their blood, like Carter or Cassie…” O´Neill shrugged his shoulders. “The zat is our only real problem.”

“Yes. The zat is the only object we really have to get back before someone figures out how to operate it”, Carter agreed. 

With this information in his mind O´Neill wasn’t too upset when Longhi told him twenty minutes later that he had only managed to get two pistols. He gave one of them to Jack. They strolled around Murano to kill the time, and then they sat down on the stairway opposite of the antique stand, and feigned reading their guides and relaxing. Approximately at eight o’clock the last tourists disappeared and returned to their lodgings and hotels. The merchants started to pack their remaining merchandise into boxes then took them to a nearby boat. 

Longhi and Carter were waiting by the boat the Carabiniere had organized, and Daniel and Jack made sure that the suspects didn’t disappear down any of the narrow alleys of Murano before joining Carter and Longhi. Unaware that they were being observed the two merchants made their way to the quay and boarded a speedboat.

Then O´Neill had a closer look at the boat Carter and Longhi were waiting on. “Oh no!” he shouted with comical despair. The old, hideous boat was in dire need of a new painting and the front window that protected the passenger cabin from wind and cold was broken in some places. She didn’t honour her proud name “PRICIPESSA” because some of the characters were missing. The engine gurgled and panted asthmatically when Longhi tried to start it. 

“Where are the oars?” O´Neill asked sneeringly when once again the motor died. 

“Ottavio gave me his own boat”, Longhi answered irritated. “Or did you think it would be wise to advertise that the Carabinieri are following them?”

“At the moment, nobody is following them”, O´Neill stated and indicated the slowly disappearing speedboat. Longhi tried again, cursed wholeheartedly “cazzo” and then, after this rude insult, the motor started. 

They were lucky that the other boat couldn’t go full speed between the little islands and therefore they were able to follow it at a safe distance. When it docked at one of the smaller islands Longhi cut the engine. Through their binoculars they saw that some of the boxes were unloaded and taken to a warehouse, other boxes were then loaded on the boat. After the stopover the men returned to their boat and set off in the direction of the coast. 

“Do we follow them or do we search the warehouse, sir?”. Sam asked. 

Before O´Neill could answer Longhi said, “Colonnello, if we stop here now, I don’t know if we will be able to catch up with them again. And in my opinion this isn’t their headquarters.”

“The Captain is right. Let’s see where they are going”, O´Neill decided.

The distance between the two boats increased the nearer they go to the coast. But Carter was still able to spot them. They switched off their lights and shut off the engine. With the help of the current they drifted to a neighbouring pier. Waiting for a moment in the boat, they heard no indication that the two men had noticed their presence. 

O´Neill climbed ashore and Daniel threw him a rope which he wrapped around a bollard. Silently Carter and Longhi also left the boat. The Colonel released the safety catch on his weapon and gestured to the others to follow him. 

A steady wind bounced the sailing yachts around. They could hear the metallic clanking of the masts, a rope hitting a mole and loose sails snapping in the wind. The waves crashing on the shore swallowed their steps as they advanced carefully along the wooden planks. Sometimes the boards would creak but the noise became lost amidst all the other noises of the night. Crouching they crept to a place where they could observe the two men. They hid behind a container that had been standing there for years if his rusty condition was any indication. 

“We’re sitting ducks”, O´Neill murmured feeling unwell and Longhi agreed sympathetically.

A few moments later a truck arrived and stopped. They tried to sink further into the container’s shadow. Two men got out of the truck and greeted the two merchants. Afterwards they helped load some boxes onto the truck, not noticing the four observers. They talked in a language Daniel couldn’t identify and he asked whispering, “Virginio, what language are they speaking?”

“Albanian. I don’t understand a single word, but with all the Albanian refugees in Italy I recognize the language”, he whispered back. “Can you read what is written on the truck? I really need glasses. In the dark it’s even worse.”

Daniel squinted hard but it was Carter who read, “Giovanni Parzocchi, S.A., Importazione ed Esportazione d´Antiquità, Venezia, Italia.”

Longhi clicked his tongue. “Ts, ts, ts. Now isn’t that a surprise? Dottor Parzocchi is involved.”

“Is that good or bad news?”, O´Neill wanted to know.

“He has a good reputation and so far I haven’t been able to find any evidence of anything illegal going on. Good connections to the Questore of the Venetian Police, too. Outwardly everything is legitimate. He deals in antiques and produces high-quality imitations. But I don’t know if he always respects the boundaries between these two activities.”

“What about his headquarters? Can we …eh, … visit it?”, O´Neill inquired.

“It’s about one kilometre from here. But tonight, no chance: The security measures are high in this area: security guards, dogs, cameras. We need special equipment. We should come back tomorrow.”

“Are you sure we couldn’t risk a little look?” O´Neill wasn’t ready to give up so soon. 

“Colonnello, from time to time I also watch American films. But we are neither Bruce Willis nor Arnold Schwarzenegger…” - O´Neill pointedly gave himself a scrutinizing look – and Longhi continued with a big grin: “And our *special electronic equipment* consists of two pistols, a video camera and several cell phones, not forgetting our streamlined speedboat. No, Colonnello, I think we shouldn’t risk a look, not even a little one.”

“Okay, we’ll come back tomorrow evening equipped like the “Terminator”", O´Neill admitted defeat. “And if those gentlemen would hurry up we could return to our hotel”, he grumbled. A few minutes later Jack’s wish was granted. The four men got into the truck and left. When SG-1 and Longhi went back to where their boat O´Neill asked, “What about peeking into the warehouse on our way back? Or do you mind?”

“Not in the least.”

“Then, let’s do it!” 

\--------------------------------------

On their way back to Venice Daniel suddenly said, “Jack, perhaps we don’t have to go back clandestinely. What do you think if tomorrow the rich American collector and antique dealer Mr. O´Neill visits Dr. Parzocchi´s premises? To find out if they can do business together?”

“Good idea, but I must inform you that this rich collector can’t tell one Chinese dynasty from another. And if he confronts me with some sort of dragon bowl…”

“His secretary, Dr. Jackson, will answer. O´Neill has the money, Dr. Jackson handles the negotiations”, Daniel refuted immediately.

“What for? Do you think he will show us around?”

“Why not? But I’ve thought about something else: perhaps we can persuade him to show us the originals. Think about it, Jack. All day long he is surrounded by imitations. We should be able to bring out his appreciation of art, so that he will want to impress us with the real pieces.”

“Why should he do that?“, O´Neill asked still not convinced.

“If he is a passionate collector he won’t be able to resist!” Daniel shouted. 

“Just like we always have to listen to your incredibly long lectures about your terrific new artefacts? Pure pride of the owner? You can’t act otherwise?” O´Neill teased with benevolent mockery. 

“Exactly!” Daniel answered in the same tone and added confidently, “And hopefully that’s what he’ll do tomorrow.”

“Daniel, he probably won’t receive you without notice”, Carter pointed out.

“But…”

“Samantha is right, Daniel”, Longhi said. “But perhaps I can help you. Avvocato Mortara knows somebody who owes him a personal favour. If Sanzorri asks Parzocchi to help you, because you are – let’s say, only going to be in Venice for two more days – the plan could work.”

“Wait, wait, wait! Which Avvocato? Who’s Sanzorri?” O´Neill interrupted. He was having difficulty sorting out all the different Italians. 

“Sanzorri is an art dealer, too. And the Avvocato, of course, is Mortara”, Longhi explained.

As Jack still wasn’t convinced Daniel added: “We, or better I, went to see the collection of Avvocato Mortara on our first day in Venice.”

“Oh, that Avvocato! Okay, and Mortara might be able to tell Sanzorri to persuade Parzocchi to see us?” O´Neill resumed and rolled all the “r´s” in the same manner as Longhi did when he pronounced the names.

“Esatto!” the Carabiniere grinned enthusiastically and the others had to grin with him. 

Of course O´Neill would have preferred a plan with a little bit more action, and less talking. But he admitted that they could still fall back upon action if plan one failed.

Stopping off at the island on their way back, they searched the warehouse but discovered nothing unusual; just lots of boxes filled with lots of worthless junk. A few minutes before midnight, they were back at their hotel and Longhi promised to call the next day. Sam who was only wearing a light summer dress was freezing and happy to get to her warm bed. Daniel yawned and whished everybody a good night when the Santa Caterina clock chimed midnight. 

“Oh, no”, O´Neill groaned desperately. 

\--------------------------------------

Apparently Sanzorri owed the Avvocato big deal because already at nine o’clock Longhi informed them that everything was arranged. Mister O´Neill and his secretary Dr. Jackson would meet Parzocchi at eleven o’clock. Longhi would send the brigadiere with a car to the Piazzale Roma to drive them to Parzocchi´s headquarters in Mestre.

“And I have good news for you, Colonnello. We found Signorina Sanchez, she´s fine but in the hospital in Padua. Three days ago she apparently slipped and hit her head. She was unconscious when she was admitted to the hospital. As she had no passport with her they only found out her name yesterday. I’ll give you their telephone number so you can call for further information.” 

Twenty minutes later they’d learnt that Sanchez had travelled to Padua to visit the famous frescoes when the had accident occurred. She was very embarrassed that her misfortune had caused General Hammond to send SG-1 to Italy. More so because she had already sent the artefacts back to the States and her flight back had been scheduled for the next day. But O´Neill assured her that they were relieved that at least one of their goals had been achieved. Now they could concentrate on getting the original-zat back.

\---------------------------------

After three days without their own transport, the noise and the stink of the buses and the cars in the Piazzale Roma was overwhelming. Luckily the Brigadiere was more punctual than his boss and was already waiting for them. Although they had decided that it was very unlikely that Parzocchi was a Goa´uld they were still on edge. Daniel opened and closed his briefcase continually until O´Neill grabbed it and put it between them on the seat.

“Relax, Daniel. We are only going to admire some old rubbish, nothing else.”

“That’s easier said than done”, Daniel mumbled but forced himself not to fidget during the rest of the ride.

Half an hour later a beautiful secretary escorted them through a very impressive hall to an equally impressive office. Everything was decorated in the same colour and smelled of money. Obviously life as an antiques dealer was very profitable. When they entered the room a stocky, rather fat man of about fifty came to greet them. 

“Signor O´Neill and Dottor Jackson”, the young woman announced, speaking English with a heavy Italian accent.

They introduced themselves once more, Daniel apologizing profusely for coming on such short a notice. When Parzocchi realized that Daniel’s Italian was better than his secretary’s English, he sent her away. Although the temperature in the office was very pleasant the portly dottore repeatedly wiped sweat from his face and his neck with a handkerchief. 

“How may I be of assistance? My dear friend Sanzorri told me that you are not only looking for well-made copies for the American market, but that you are also interested in buying genuine pieces for rich collectors. I regret I have to disappoint you. The export policy of the Italian government is extremely restrictive; so don’t hold out any great hopes. You are aware that you have to label everything you dig out? And then try to get an export license! I could tell you stories….”

And he did just that during the next thirty minutes. If Daniel and Jack hadn’t already heard these stories from Longhi they would have believed that the Italian Government would try everything they could to ruin a poor little antique dealer with their impossible demands.They listened silently, Daniel feigning interest, now and then nodding or shaking his head. O´Neill tried desperately to stifle a yawn and looked around the office. 

Once the small talk finally finished Parzocchi got down to business. Dr. Jackson had to tell him exactly - while translating parts of the discussion for Jack - what Mr. O´Neill was interested in: art objects, quantities, terms of delivery and delivery time. Daniel answered, asked Jack his opinion while discretely looking around the room. Finally he spotted what he was looking for. As he already assumed Dottor Parzocchi had been unable to resist the temptation to exhibit at least one of his treasures. Therefore Daniel wrote some numbers on a paper that he presented to Jack. Under the column of numbers he had scribbled: The canopic jar on the third shelf seems to be authentic. 

“Surprise him. Tell him we want to buy exactly that piece and nothing else”, O´Neill spoke so fast and so quietly that Parzocchi had no chance to understand what they were saying. 

Daniel got up, went to the shelves and took out carefully the canopic-jar. He placed it directly in front of the dottore. “Mister O´Neill wishes to buy exactly this object”, he told the older man, who was playing nervously with his pen. Parzocchi glanced pensively between Daniel and O´Neill then he asked, “Why this particular piece?”

“Because it’s the only one here of value”, Daniel replied as he held out against the scrutinizing look. 

It was obvious that Parzocchi had reached a decision because he rose and said, “Sanzorri was right. Please, follow me.”

He went to another door in the room. On the wall next to it was a control panel with a keybord on which he typed a code. Then he pulled out a key on a chain from under his shirt and used it to open the door. He switched on the lights in the adjacent room and Daniel’s lips escaped: “Wow!” The carefully arranged lamps highlighted about ten different glass cabinets each containing a unique art piece. 

The following scene was familiar to O´Neill. Daniel forgot everything about his surroundings, stepped in front of the first glass cabinet and stared with slightly opened lips at the golden necklace lying on a glass pedestal. Hesitatingly he mumbled a year to himself, and then crouched to have another look.

“That’s it,” he murmured satisfied before straightening up. He was drawn as if by magic to the next glass cabinet. A little amphora made him mumble reverently the name of an epoch. 

Dottor Parzocchi smiled, “It was found when they constructed the new airport at Heraklion in Crete.”

“Really? It must have been an exchange object then, because at first glance I would have thought that it belonged to an attic workshop.”

“In principle you are right. They found so many amphorae, bowls and plates decorated in the same place that archaeologists now tend to believe that they were made by an attic potter working in Crete.” 

“That’s fascinating.” Daniel answered truthfully. And because also the Dottore thought it fascinating they had an animated discussion for the next few minutes, until O´Neill cleared his throat and asked, “Dr. Jackson, could we forget the attic pottery for the moment? I think we came here to look for something else.”

“Uh.. Oh,… yes. You’re right”, Daniel agreed after he’d come back to reality. He tried to concentrate but then he saw another object. He frowned, examined the piece for a minute than gave the dottore a questioning look. 

“Neolithic or Bronze Age. It’s uncertain where it was found. Perhaps in the Germanic provinces of the Roman Empire”, the dottore explained. He opened the cabinet and took out the little figurine with great care. He gave it to Daniel who caressed the crudely shaped object with tenderness and reverence. 

“I didn’t know they ….”

“It must have been very difficult ….” - They started again. 

O´Neill knew they had to play according to Daniel’s rules. He withdrew from the discussion and strolled around the room. He regarded the art objects that were not so prominently displayed. If someone had asked his opinion he would have said that this cup decorated with precious stones would have merited a place in the first row and not the little stone female that the two other men had gone into raptures about. But he got the impression that no one here was really interested in his opinion. 

When after ten minutes they still weren’t paying any attention to him so he cleared his throat once more. – No reaction – 

“Daniel!” – Still no reaction. – “Dr. Jackson!!”

Two pairs of eyes turned to him and he could have sworn that he could read in them the same: they had completely forgotten that he was still with them. He should have expected that! He wondered if he could have simply taken the zat gun he had found on the lowest shelf! Nobody would have noticed! But now it was too late and so he pointed to the gun and asked Daniel, “What do you think?”

With great reluctance Daniel gave the little figurine back to Dottor Parzocchi who put it back in the cabinet and closed it. Then they both went to where O´Neill was waiting.

“What’s that?” O´Neill asked the Italian before Daniel could answer. 

“That?” The dottore took the zat from the shelf and gave it to Daniel. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know. Certainly it’s Egyptian but it’s very difficult to tell the dynasty”, Parzocchi replied. He regarded the object with pity in his eyes. As if it was incomplete if you couldn’t classify and date it. 

“You used it to make a paperweight”, Daniel reminded him. 

“Yes, I know, I thought it looked threatening and imposing at the same time”, Parzocchi apologized. “Clients love it.”

“Therefore you can buy it in every colour, even to match your wallpaper”, O´Neill remarked with a shudder because he knew about the deadly power and complete annihilation this weapon could bring.

“Mr. O´Neill”, said Daniel who suddenly remembered their mission. “This would be ideal for the senator. He told us to find something very special for him.”

“Yes!” Jack shouted appraisingly. “That would be to his liking.” Involuntarily he thought of Senator Kinsey and the way he would like to bring together the senator and a zat.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t sell pieces from my private collection. And, to tell the truth, I wouldn’t know where to get another one like this.”

“Where did you get this one?”

“I never reveal my sources”. The doctor shook his head.

“I... I understand”, Daniel replied quickly, when he noticed that O´Neill was going to answer. Ignoring the reproachful glare of the Colonel he continued, “But perhaps you can tell us whether this object was found in Egypt or in Italy?”

For a few seconds the doctor played with his key then he made up his mind. “The artefact was taken to France by one of Napoleon’s marshals on the occasion of his Egyptian Campaign. It fell into oblivion as for years it had been stored away in an old mansion. When the last owner died his heirs emptied the house and sold everything. I bought a box from them.”

“Do you know if there was more than one box?” O´Neill inquired. 

Again the doctor wrestled with his conscience whether to answer but then he said, “There were three. The one I bought seemed to be the most interesting.”

“So you bought a whole box and not single items?” Daniel wanted to know.

“Dottore Jackson, I have already told you too much”, Parzocchi tried to end the discussion. 

But there was still one offer Daniel hoped the collector Parzocchi couldn’t decline. He held the zat before Parzocchi´s eyes and said, “In the United States we often work with an institute of high reputation which can do all sorts of tests to determine age. I’m sure they could find out to which epoch this artefact belongs and what his function was. Please, let us have this object, even if only temporary. Please, dottore.”

“And what does Mr. O´Neill get out of it?”, Parzocchi asked. “I suppose these examinations aren’t cheap.”

“Thanks to my work Mr. O´Neill already earned a large amount of money.” Daniel stated, grinning mischievously. “Therefore he can afford to indulge one of my extravagancies from time to time.” 

O´Neill acknowledged with a mocking, affirmative smile. 

“I believe you, Dr. Jackson”. Parzocchi said nodding. “And if you should ever find yourself looking for a new job, don’t hesitate to call me.” 

He invited Daniel to give back the weapon and in that moment Daniel knew that they had lost. The next words confirmed his suspicions. “But my decision concerning this … paperweight is final. I’m not ready to part with it. I’ll try to find something similar for you, but you can’t have this one. If you don’t mind, please accompany me back to my office. We can discuss once more what you are interested in and I’ll ask around for you.”

When they were back in Dr. Parzocchi´s office Daniel listed some artefacts they allegedly had interested clients for. Into this list he sneaked also the ribbon device, the jewellery with the Goa´uld inscriptions and the glass bowl with the little dragons. Dottor Parzocchi noted everything down and promised once more to ask around and call them when he had any news. Daniel gave him the number of the hotel in Venice but pointed out that they would only be in Venice for two more days. He also reluctantly gave Parzocchi the number of his private cell phone. They parted on best terms and Dottor Parzzochi gave Daniel an imitation of the canopic jar as a present. 

\-------------------------------------

“They were stolen, weren’t they?” O´Neill asked immediately when they were back in the car. “That’s why he wouldn’t let us have the zat, right?”

“No, I’m certain he told us the truth. The heirs of the French marshal sold them to avoid paying taxes. Death duty, inheritance tax – I don’t know exactly what you have to pay in France. But I’m certain they weren’t sold at an official auction house. Then there would have been pictures in a catalogue, an article in a newspaper, a discussion in the specialized literature. Somehow we would have known.”

“And the other boxes?”

“Either there wasn’t anything interesting in them or they are in a collector’s exhibition, too.”

“Great! That’s a relief!”

“Jack, we’ll get the zat back tonight and perhaps we’ll get an opportunity to find out where in France Parzocchi bought the box.”

“Take us directly to Captain Longhi!” O´Neill ordered zealously. Finally something to do other than talk!

\--------------------------------------------------

They called Carter on their way back and therefore she was already waiting in Loghi´s office when they arrived. 

The next two hours O´Neill was in his element: discussing safety precautions and establishing a plan. Longhi checked out the Land Registry website and the Building Control Department and copied the building plans of Parzocchi´s headquarters. Even if there were minor changes it was be a good place to start. Jack told them everything he had observed while in Parzocchi´s office. He’d even had had a closer look at the alarm system in the “treasure-chamber” while Daniel was discussing history with the dottore. 

When they had formulated the outlines of their plan Longhi called three carabinieri who would watch their backs or provide covering fire if necessary. After that everyone got the Italian version of BDUs and Kevlar-vests. From his own station Longhi had no problem in organizing a weapon for everybody. If he was astonished that Daniel also took one he didn’t mention it. 

\-----------------------------------

In the afternoon they were back at their hotel. There was nothing to do or plan or organize anymore. They only had to wait for darkness. 

“Let’s have a break”, O´Neill proposed and flopped down on the sofa. 

“A break?”, Daniel opened the door to the balcony.

“Yep. Break as in “do nothing”, “laze about”, “relax”, you know, what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

“Yeah. And what do we do during this break? “, Daniel asked and plumped down on the sofa beside Jack.

“Daniel! I’ve already explained, the definition of “break” is “doing nothing”.” O´Neill rolled his eyes unbelievingly. 

“Even I understand that, Jack.” Daniel grinned like a madman. “But also under the current circumstances we have to decide what to do and what not, and where not to do it. Say, if we need sunglasses, swimsuits and towels.” 

“Oh! Sounds like we are going to the beach.” Sam was pleased. 

“In the city-guide there is a list of nice beaches on the Lido di Venezia”, Daniel said.

“Hey! That’s the name of the ice cream parlour in Colorado Springs!” O´Neill shouted excitedly.

“I wondered where the parlour got its name from”, Daniel murmured barely audibly.

But O´Neill had heard him, boxed him playfully in the ribs and menaced, “One more remark like that and I won’t let you take a book with you to the beach!”

In the end there were three books in Daniel’s bag when they took the vaporetto to the Lido. Jack had packed a copy of the plans of Parzocchi´s building and Sam bought an American Newspaper that O´Neill wanted to read immediately. 

They decided on a bathing beach with blue and white striped sunshades and rented three blue and white deckchairs. O´Neill bought pizza and Daniel bought ice cream for everybody. They tried to persuade Sam to drop the top of her bikini but she refused laughingly. Her only concession to the Italian way of life was to invite the men to have an espresso with her. 

On best terms and with a light suntan they returned to Venice in the evening. Jack was especially looking forward to their nightly trip. 

\--------------------------------

“Signor Jackson! Dottore!”, the young receptionist called when they entered the hotel. He waved excitedly a sheet of paper in Daniel’s direction.

“What’s the matter?” Daniel asked going to the reception desk.

“I have a message for you. A certain… Dottore Parzocchi called, in fact he tried to reach you several times. In the end he gave me this number. Please can you call him back as soon as possible?” The young man handed Daniel a sheet of paper. 

“Thank you very much”, Daniel said taking a discrete look at the display of his cell phone. Oh, oh! He had forgotten to switch it on – again. He went to Sam and Jack who were waiting for him. “Parzocchi wants me to call him”, he explained while climbing the stairs without mentioning the fact that his phone had been switched off..

“Okay, you call him while I change,” Jack said opening his door. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

He was sliding the pistol into the holster when Daniel and Sam entered the room, both wearing civilian clothes. His eyebrows went up.

“Jack, I’m afraid there is going to be a slight change in plans”, Daniel began.

“Don’t tell me he cleared off! We could have saved ourselves the whole mission with this Dr. Jackson-Mr. O´Neill number and quite simply marched into his office tonight!” Jack interrupted him angrily. 

“No, no. On the contrary! Signor Parzocchi informed me that he thought about our offer all afternoon. And the more he thought about it the more he wanted to know what this … paperweight is. He is ready to give…”

Someone knocked on the door and after Jack had called “enter” Longhi stepped into the room. “We can start…Oh, you aren’t ready yet! What has happened?”

“Well, Daniel was trying to explain when you entered “, Jack replied.

Daniel started once more from the beginning and ended: “… is ready to give us the … artefact for further tests to be carried out in the States. His only condition: that we inform him of all our findings in writing.” 

“And?” Jack asked. 

“I agreed.”

“But you know, you can never tell him what it really is”, Sam remarked and regarded him with a question in her eyes. 

Daniel sighed. “He will believe me, when I send him a load of paperwork with a rubber stamp and signature from the Institute.” It was clear that Daniel was not a happy man.

“And I’ll make sure that it won’t be your signature on the paperwork. It’s not necessary for your name to appear.” Jack said to the great surprise of everybody. 

Daniel was overwhelmed. “Th…Thank you”, he stammered. 

“Don’t mention it”, O´Neill waved his hand dismissively. “Well then, when do we get this thing?”

“Parzocchi is sending a driver to the hotel. It should be here within the next hour.” 

Jack addressed Longhi: “How do we deal with the Italian customs? Are you able to provide us with an export licence?”

“A forged licence?” Longhi was shocked. Then he reconsidered, sighed as loudly as Daniel had and replied, “Yes. I think I’ll be able to get one.”

“Wait a minute!” Sam called. Her features lightened up. “Sir, I don’t think it will be necessary.” She addressed the Carabiniere, “Virginio, do you know somebody on Murano who can make it in a nice little paperweight?”

“My nephew’s landlady’s husband is a glassworker on Murano. I can ask him.” Longhi said confidently. 

“Carter? It won’t damage its … eh… function?”

“No, sir. I don’t think so. It was designed to withstand high temperatures.” 

“Okay, no objections then. Wow, guys! Have we got a souvenir for Hammond!” O´Neill smiled happily. “He’ll be gob smacked!”

“In other words, for the other imitations you bought at the market you don’t need the originals? We cancel our campaign?” Longhi wanted to know from O´Neill. 

“Would be nice to have them, but no, it’s not absolutely necessary. I regret we had to cancel our nightly excursion,” the Colonel confirmed shrugging his shoulders. He gave the pistol back to Longhi. “Nice weapon”. He nodded approvingly. 

“Thank you. Okay, I’ll send back my people and…”

“… And perhaps you wanna have a drink with us, Capitano?” O´Neill offered and couldn’t suppress a smirk when he used the Italian title. 

“I’d like that! Thank you!” Longhi smiled not a little surprised. 

“Jack, there’s still one matter”, Daniel interrupted ill at ease. 

“What? Do you want to point out: no alcoholic beverages during work?” O´Neill teased him. “Then let me tell you, Parzocchi´s telephone call granted me leave. We are only waiting for the … object to be deliverd and when it’s in our hands: Arrivederci Venezia!” Jack announced triumphantly. 

“Arrivederci Venezia it might be, Jack.” Daniel nibbled on his bottom lip, gave Jack an apologetic look and continued, “But I fear, Jack, the next words you have to learn are: Bonjour Chaumont-sur-Loire.”

“Uh???”

“A little village in the vicinity of Orleans.”

“And?” Jack’s tone demanded an explanation although he already feared for the worst. 

“The heirs of the Napoleonic marshal live there. Signor Parzocchi telephoned them and they are willing to meet with us.”

“Oh no! That’s …” In the last moment O´Neill changed tactics and finished his phrase – due to the Carabiniere - lamely: “…wonderful.”

“I always knew that you were eager to visit the French castles”, Carter teased her CO.

“Renaissance castles”, Longhi declared enthusiastically. Everybody burst into laughter when Jack groaned. 

“That means for the next days we’ll be chasing after some old boxes, strolling over flea-markets and, for a nice change visiting antique dealers?” He sighed deeply. Then he brightened: “At least France is known for its famous cuisine.”

Carter told him with a big grin: “You’ll love it, sir. Frog’s legs, snails, oysters, blue mussels…”

“Sausages made from innards, black mouldy cheese, steaks dripping of blood…” Longhi continued the enumeration. 

Until Daniel completed, “And for breakfast you’ll have a small piece of dry baguette which you dip in your milky coffee until the crumbs and bits of the jam are swimming in your cup.”

“Arrghh!” In feigned despair Jack covered his ears. “Capitano! Let’s have one last decent pizza!” he ordered and - as a special exception - none of his team contradicted him. “Venice is better than I thought it was.” 

\-------------------------------------------

The next day, while they were sitting on the plane to Orleans, Daniel was reading travel guides about the Loire castles and Jack announced that he didn’t have a great liking for old, muddy, damp-smelling masonry built by a Louis whatsoever. 

It promised to be a pleasant stay.

 

 

\---------------------The End--------------------------

 

Antares, August/September 2003

**Author's Note:**

> One of my first stories and my first translation. There are a few things I would do differently today. *g*


End file.
